The Story of Simon and Marcy
by TurtlesAreCool
Summary: The land of Ooo suffered through the Mushroom War and is now left in a post-apocalyptic state. While mutants and creatures impacted by the war walk the earth, Simon struggles to keep alive and keep his sanity. After he meets a young vampire by the name of Marceline, Simon makes it his duty to keep her safe, and this is their story. Rated T for possible violence. Friendship fanfic.
1. Chapter 1: Simon

**Author's Note:**

**Uh, hey! This is my first fan fiction attempt so I hope it's not to horrid, yeah? Anywho, just to clarify, this story is about Simon and Marceline's FRIENDSHIP. I don't know if there is a ship between those two, but I don't ship it, no offence if you do! Basically going to be about what they went through together, how they met and whatnot. I have a faint idea of what I want to do, but if you've got any suggestions, please don't be shy, just let me know what they are! Please enjoy. (:**

**-TurtlesAreCool**

The air was slightly chilled and soft breezes breathed through the atmosphere. The sun's rays barely touched the Earth's skin as dawn began to break through night's cruel darkness. Other than the periodic whispers from the wind, the world was mute. Nature did not sing its song through birds or other creatures but was still and eerie. Simon only broke the silence with the soft padding of his footsteps. For nearly a day now he had been following a paved path, which may have once been a highway, in search of a suitable place to settle for some time. His journey so far had worn on his old bones. The weight from his food-filled pack ached his back, the sleeping bag bruised his neck and the crown strapped to his leg suffocated his thoughts. Despite all this, he continued to walk.

Simon's movements halted and his eyes narrowed. Where the orange-red sky clung to the Earth's rough surface was, what seemed to be, shadowy shapes of houses. Being the optimist that he was, Simon siphoned energy from this new found hope. Feet working faster and arms pumping harder, he neared the silhouettes. As luck would have it, the houses became clearer, and were indeed, houses. His pace became much slower as he entered the remains of "Woodinville" (at least that is what the sign said). Simon let out a soft sigh and took in the small town. An obvious rest stop for travelers back in the day, all that was left of Woodinville was a grocery store (probably empty at this point) by a gas station, a few small homes and a diner by the name of Woodinville's Diner (man, people back then were creative). Small as it was, Simon saw it to be very fitting to his needs. Deciding that there may be supplies hiding in some of the buildings, he started toward the grocery store. As Simon predicted, most items had been taken or opened and haphazardly thrown aside. Walking through the aisles, Simon's eye caught on a lone can of chicken noodle soup. It looked unopened and perfectly fine, so he stuffed it in his bag and made way to the diner. The diner, unfortunately had very little to offer. Figuring that some of the empty bottles may come in handy, Simon grabbed one off a counter and moved on. The houses had many assorted goods. Some bandages, matches, clothes and even a bottle of alcohol.

By the time Simon had finished looting, the sun was casting large shadows from the west. He had chosen a decent sized house consisting of two bedrooms located upstairs, one bathroom, a living room and a kitchen to stay in. The old paint was peeling from the aged walls and floorboards squeaked as Simon moved about. He worked his way upstairs and into the bedroom on the right and let his heavy bag fall from his sore shoulders with a "_kur-plunk!_" at the edge of the bed. Searching through his pack, Simon finally grabbed a can of peaches to devour. Their taste was nothing all that wonderful, nor were they very filling, but Simon was running out of food and he had to make what he had last. After swallowing the last slice, Simon made his preparations for bed. He unrolled his sleeping bag on top of the worn-down mattress and fluffed his pillow. Quickly, he walked down the steps to the first floor. Simon then grabbed a wooden dining chair and leaned it against the front entrance of the house just so it was under the knob making it difficult to open from the other side. He did the same with the back door as well. Satisfied with his precautions for now, it was time for Simon to rest. He stopped by a window closest to the street in the room he had his things in. The only detectable movement was the golden leaves that fell to the ground from the perfectly arranged trees. The sight oddly made Simon feel at ease, and so, he shuffled into his sleeping bad for a well-deserved sleep.


	2. A Visitor

**Author's Note:**

** First of all, I AM SO SORRY. I've been so busy with school and I know that's not a good excuse, but at least this chapter is much longer! Also, a few things, Woodinville is an actual place cause' I'm really uncreative and I couldn't think of a name for a town, haha. It's a pretty small town and I really like it there. Also, the art used for this story is drawn by me. It was something I did pretty quickly, and it's not the best quality, but you know. Also, you guys, thanks so much for reviewing, favoriting, and following! It means so much. I smiled through the reviews like crazy and re-read them like four times. Hopefully this chapter is okay. I tried to make the characters act like they might would in the show, tell me if I did an okay job. Please enjoy!**

** -Turtles Are Cool**

It was cold; far below the average temperature for a day in autumn. It was almost as though it was getting _too_ cold, to the point where Simon could not bear it. The sky was clouded over and white; white as snow. Simon's body felt as though a layer of ice was engulfing him. He tried to keep himself warm with blanket on top of blanket, but the cold still broke through. It was freezing his throat, his lungs, and his entire body. There was no stopping it. It was going to take him over, and he knew it. Snowflakes fell from overhead, a normally peaceful sight that made Simon cringe. The ground became slick and slippery from newly formed ice. He just wanted it to stop. He did not want it to be cold anymore, and he could not stand it. Make it stop. _Make it stop._

When Simon woke up he was covered in cool sweat. It made him shiver uncomfortably as he sat up. He rubbed his forehead while thinking over his foul dream. Out of the corner of his eye Simon knew the magical crown was staring him down. He watched as it mocked him as he dealt with horrifying images of ice and snow. Anger rapidly began to replace his fear. How could he have been so stupid? He should have seen the curse resided in the crown. Why had he been so blind? Simon's frustrations built until he swung his arm at the crown, tossing it across the room. Then he sat for a moment, seething silently. After that moment had ended, Simon had really realized what he had done. He frantically scurried in the direction the crown had flown. It sat silently under a desk, as though it waited for its submissive servant to come crawling back. Simon did as such. On his hands and knees, he quickly picked up the royal headwear. He examined it carefully, checking for any scratches that may have formed from its launching. His fingertips gingerly ran across the golden surface. A small frown sat on Simon's features. He released a sigh and strapped the crown to his pant leg and attempted to push the thought of it aside.

Simon grabbed his bag, in case hunger got the best of him, and left the house. A vast forest encompassed the town of Woodinville. The trees were mostly evergreens and they stood high above the small buildings. Simon made his way into the dense growth to gather firewood. After all, with autumn setting in the air was quickly becoming crisp and cold. After about one hundred feet in, Simon began to gather medium sized sticks and branches. Quiet howls of the wind made him slightly uneasy. As he often did when he was nervous, Simon began to whistle a melody to clam him. His arms quickly filled with wood and he began to start back towards the small town when a rustle came from above. Simon stopped his melody and quickly turned towards the sound. He thought it was very likely to be a bird but his guts felt twisted. He frowned and continued back towards the town. He did not hear another unusual sound until he reached the edge of town; another faint rustle from above, in the trees. Simon did not glance back this time, but picked up speed until he reached his house. He flung open the door and dropped all of his sticks in the middle of the entrance hall. After he slammed the door, he grabbed the dining room chair he had used before and leaned it under the knob. It was silent for several moments. Simon did not dare to make a sound, as if he did, whatever was outside would hear.

After he composed himself, Simon re-gathered all of his wood and made way to the living room. In the center of the opposite wall there stood an aged, stone wood-fire stove fireplace. Once Simon had searched the rooms for them, he shoved several miscellaneous papers (most of which were old pages for teen magazines filled with old boy bands) in between pieces of wood. Using the matches that he had found the day before, Simon set a few pages ablaze. He very well knew that the fire could alert other survivors of his location, but from experience he also knew that the mutants wouldn't be able to detect the smoke as easily. Simon feared other humans just as much as the mutants, but very seldom did he come across any. Regardless, it would be safe to keep his time using the fire to a minimum. Simon fanned and tended to the fire until it became decently sized. He reached into his pack and pulled out a can of uncooked beans. Carefully, Simon cooked the beans from his newly made fire. The aroma of baking beans floated in the air and made Simon's stomach growl. As the food grew close to being done a soft sound of pitters and patters came from overhead. The rhythm the rain created made Simon smile. He hummed a soft tune along side with the sound and took the beans off the fire. Before touching his food he put out the fire for safety.

"Making your way in the world today takes everything you got…"

Simon's singing echoed with the sounds of rain in the empty home. He mixed the beans and was about to take a bite when something strange happened. Simon heard a soft knocking noise from the front entrance. Confused, and rather nervous, he placed the beans down and walked towards the door. The echoes of the rain seemed louder, and the creaking of the floorboards occurred more often. Once Simon had reached the door he held the knob and waited. He waited, and he listened. Perhaps the wind had knocked something outside or he was just hearing things that aren't there? If someone was out there, they would surely knock again. It seemed like minutes and another knock had not greeted Simon yet. Relieved, he began to return to his beans. Again, it was a knock that halted his actions. Gathering courage, he grabbed onto the door knob once again. His other hand hovered over the golden crown.

"Taking a break from your worries sure would help a lot…"

In unison, Simon snapped the crown from its restraint and twisted the door knob. He held the crown above his head, and glowered into the empty frame. Darkness held onto Simon's visitor, making them invisible. He waited for a sound, movement, or anything to give the unknown away. When he heard it, it surprised him. A small cough from the outside, so quiet and little it may as well been from a child. After the mysterious outsider moved forward, it turns out it was indeed a child. Standing before Simon was a little girl no older than four years. Pale, and somewhat sickly looking, she stared at Simon with blood red eyes and hair darker than night itself. Her overall dress was tattered and dirty as well as the red shirt she wore under it. Moments of silence passed between them and all Simon could do was stare. Was she real? Was she _human_?

The strange girl finally broke the silence. "I'm Marceline, the Vampire Queen!" Marceline hissed (or attempted to), "Fear me!"

Simon stared blankly, his crown still being held above his head. The poor girl, or vampire, was sniffling and coughing all about. He wasn't sure that she was capable of doing any harm, in fact, she looked rather nervous. Marceline's face was twisted between being brave and being afraid. Simon didn't know exactly how to react, so he didn't.

Marceline's face became disappointed. She watched Simon through his internal struggle and waited for his response. "Hey! I _said _I'm Marceline, the Vampire Queen! Fear me!" She stomped her foot for emphasis.

Simon lowered his crown and frowned. "I don't know how." He stated.

"You don't know how to _what_?"

"I don't know how to fear you."

Marceline starred at him, mouth agape for a moment. She was in complete disbelief. She had practiced it a million times! She'd done everything right! "What do you mean you don't know how?!"

Simon shrugged. "I don't know, Marceline, you just weren't that scary."

It was hard for Simon to watch as the little girl's expression fell completely. Her mouth turned down into a frown, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and her nose crinkled. It was the saddest little pout Simon had ever seen. "I practiced," Marceline mumbled, "I followed you from the woods, and I practiced."

Simon frowned. The little vampire must have been the noise he had heard earlier in the trees. It did not all add up, though. Simon did not understand the girl's desire to scare him, but he had come to the conclusion that she meant no harm. She was, after all, just a young girl, vampire or not.

"Maybe you just need some help!" Simon suggested.

Marceline looked up at Simon. She still had a sad expression. "What do you mean?"

"I mean maybe you need some help. From someone who is good at making people fear them!"

Marceline pondered this for a moment, her face becoming more serious. Simon couldn't help but smile slightly. "Are you good at scaring people?" She questioned.

The question took him by surprise. "Oh, well, I've never thought about it." Simon looked towards his crown he still held in his hand and frowned. "Now that you mention it, I suppose I'm not half bad at it."

Marceline's blood red eyes shined. "Would you please, _please_, help me? I won't ever scare you, I promise!" The little vampire was jumping up and down.

Simon smiled. He took the time to think things over, giving Marceline a pondering expression. He made an _Hmm_ like sound. This made Marceline plead more. Simon wondered where this girl had come from and where her parents were. Why was she all alone? More importantly, why was she a vampire? He knew he couldn't leave her alone, she was so young.

"I guess I can help you out, Marceline, the Vampire Queen."

Marceline squealed. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You can call me Marcy. Everyone used to call me Marcy."

Simon smiled. "Okay, Marcy. You can call me Simon."


End file.
